It's clear I'm not the greatest at consistent blogging. At night when I’m lying in bed and processing the days events I often think about sharing them... but blogging requires some structure and discipline that I haven't developed with regularity. It's somewhat like sending an email to an old, dear friend. You have very much to say so you wait til the right moment comes up when you can sit down in calm and pour out your thoughts, but then the days pass by and soon its been months and you still haven’t written. Alas, I realized the perfect quiet moment might never come so as I listen to the pit-pattering of rain on my balcony and wait for some tea to come to a boil let me share with you invisible readers a bit about what's going on in this part of the world.

It’s hard to tell whether the rainy season is still lingering or if climate change is just doing its thing but either way almost every afternoon we’re greeted with a thunderstorm and a heavy downpour. On days when I haven’t forgotten my umbrella at home, I love the dramatic showers when the air is thick and still and the gray skies open up and the clouds free themselves of their heavy baggage. During these moments the Medellin canal fills up and rushes through the city, street vendors hustle to cover their stands, folks compete for shelter under whatever awning is closest and everyone surrenders to the wild, supreme force of mother nature. There’s something so cozy about being indoors during a tropical thunderstorm.. it reminds me a bit of curling up by a fire and watching December snowflakes float to the ground and light up a black new England night.

I’ve joined the couchsurfing community here in Medellin and we’ve formed a lovely little family of people from all over the world. Last week an Australian girl stayed at my house and we really hit it off. Couch surfing is a shot in the dark but this time was wonderful. I left a key by the door so she could let herself in while I was still at the university. I came home from class exhausted but curious to meet the new stranger that would be sharing my space. When I opened the door and heard reggae rhythms and saw my apartment lit with candles and smelling sweet with incense, I knew right away we’d click. The auzzie had helped herself to the kitchen and made cinnamon/sugarcane tea and pumpkin ginger soup for dinner. We shared stories and sipped tea and it was just so sweet to feel such a human connection with a total stranger.

I’ve been cooking every day. Believe it or not rice, beans, and chicken/pork/beef can only be exciting for so long. I love going to the market and coming home with whatever looks the most fresh and tickles my fancy at that very moment. Papaya, mango, avocado, and coconut have become pretty staple in my diet here. Last week my Indian friend showed me how to make authentic curry which, I must say, is heaven to the senses after months without spice. I’ve been experimenting a lot with sesame seeds, quinoa, coconut oil and yuka. Started making my own yogurt and almond milk and ghee and chai teas by boiling cinnamon sticks, black pepper corn, cloves, cardamom and fresh ginger. Delicious. My most recent favorite concoction is a cucumber, mint, coconut, ginger smoothie. Its ironic because this part of the world is favorable to growing almost any fruit or vegetable yet Colombians enjoy a rather uniform and limited diet. There are only two organic co-ops (that I know of at least) in Medellin and I try to support them as much as possible. Most of the food here is genetically hampered and saturated with all sorts of chemicals, herbicides and pesticides to increase productivity and freshness, especially for those products being shipped overseas. I'm trying to link up with the Asociación Campesina Agroecológica, a small group of local farmers who deeply care about protecting the land and the environment and believe in cultivating natural and sustainable crops.


Mornings are my favorite time of day. Most days I wake up early to do yoga and go for gentle walks or jogs around my neighborhood. Ive always been an early riser but there is something really special about this time of day in south america when the sun is bright and strong, the markets open with sprawling spreads of fruits and vegetables, women sweep their front porches and pause to wave at passer-by-ers, vendors slowly wheel carts of fresh avocados and plantains down the street, elderly folks sip black coffee under shaded trees, the honks of cars and motorcycles and morning traffic fills the air and little by little the world comes alive.

On Monday Im traveling to Chocó, the pacific coastal region, to breathe in the jungle and volunteer with a friends’ NGO. Ill share more when I get back.